


The Bees Knees

by j_gabrielle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Honey, Like seriously there is no plot, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, foodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain and Dean and Honey and the Kitchen Sink. Yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bees Knees

**Author's Note:**

> I've returned from my family's annual 'Reunion-Dinner-Gambling-After-Party'. I must purge myself of the Cain/Dean feels.

Cain smears the honey on Dean's skin, slowly, deliberate. The boy is stretched out, arching into the warmth of his palm. Sweet summer sunlight filtering in from the kitchen window dapples the landscape of skin - freckles, faded scars, bruises all illuminated by the molten gold of the honey from their bees. Dean is bracing himself against the edge of the sink, trying his best not to be obvious about the need between his legs and the stream of precum dripping down the front of the cabinet door.

It isn't the first time he has found this thing of theirs to be particularly addicting in ways he has yet to truly grasp.

Cain moves his hand through the mess, spreading the stickiness all over. He pistons into Dean in time with the ticking of the clock by the door. He ignores the quiet pleas for more, for faster, for harder. Cain finds himself smiling at the soft desperation wrecking through Dean's bones. It is a beautiful thing to see - almost as beautiful as the time he fucked the boy naked whilst he was still fully dressed, drenched in the blood of their last kill, and against the side of the wall in a dirty alleyway in full view of at least three vagrants.

Dean whimpers, legs buckling when Cain thrusts just that little bit harder at the recollection of that memory. He can't help it. Dean is a being made for debauchery.

He sinks his nails into the flesh of Dean's hips, adding to the collection of angry red crescent shapes that dot the skin there. Picking him up slightly, he shifts them until Dean has a leg bracing on the counter while his other is dangling a few inches off the floor. All the while, Cain maintains the pace of his hips.

The flesh of Dean's ass jiggles in response to their fucking. The sounds of their flesh meeting honey slicked flesh is music of the highest order. Cain wraps himself around Dean then, reaching up to place his hand just at the base of his throat. He feels the shifting of muscle and flesh and bones beneath his hand. 

"C-Cain..." Dean gasps, pupils blown wide and he feels him clenching down around him, enfolding him in the feeling of wet heat and euphoria, drawing him over the edge as well.

All throughout it, Cain pistons his hips relentlessly. He is sure the boy is going to end up beautifully bruised and sore from their activities. Looking down he discovers that his cock has not softened in the slightest.

Perhaps he'll try taking him on the front lawn next.


End file.
